


Melt Away: Prompts and Drabbles

by B_does_the_write_thing



Series: Melt Away Verse [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, It's all smut, Prompt Verse, Smut, and pain, because i am easy like sunday morning, but in a good way, if i add a chapter, it's probably just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3718726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_does_the_write_thing/pseuds/B_does_the_write_thing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Verse One Shots- posted on Tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Rumbelle goes out on a date and plays some sort of competitive game, like laser tag, paintball, mini-golf, etc.  
> Prompt: Lacey and Mr. Gold make a bet

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, old man,” Lacey teased mercilessly. She leaned up against his pristine Cadillac. Her devilish grin daring him to refuse her. “You chicken?”

“Lacey,” Gold growled, eyes flickering around the empty parking lot. “Someone could see us.”

“Oh,” Lacey snorted, glancing around in amusement. “I highly doubt that.”

Gold glared at her, the driver side door ajar as he stood half in and half out of the car.

A surprise, she had said. Something different. A quick jaunt, just something to get out of the house on the first spring day in Maine, she had said.

Gold should have known better than to listen to the little vixen. But she had suggested it in the midst of… certain activities. When he had been more than amenable to anything as long as she didn’t stop that thing with her hips-

“Still,” he said with a strident clearing of his throat. “This place has been closed for years.”

“I know,” Lacey gave him a cheeky grin, peeling herself away from the car and towards the tall fence.

Storybrooke Emporium had been closed as long as Gold could remember. He dimly remembered visiting here before- but his memories were not fond ones and he quickly blocked them out. 

“Lacey,” he warned, watching as she reached the rusty fence. “What in heaven’s name do you think you’re doing?”

“Trespassing,” Lacey answered breezily, shooting him a wink as she lifted a part of the fence from the ground and ducked beneath it.

Gold gaped at the brunette, now standing on the other side of the tall fence with a canary-eating grin on her face. He shook his head at her through the chain links.

“Absolutely not,” he growled, stomping his cane in vehement denial. “I’m not sneaking around like some delinquent teen-“

“Ah, come on, old man,” Lacey purred, pressing herself up against the chain link fence. “Live a little…”

Unwilling to look away from her challenging grin, Gold answered her with his own private smirk, sidling up to the fence to curl his fingers around hers. Lacey’s sapphire blue eyes sparkled up at him, certain she had won the stand off.

Until he pressed the head of his cane against her skirt, letting it find the ball of nerves hidden under her tights. Lacey released a little heady moan; eyes fluttering close as Gold applied the pressure he knew she liked.

Child’s play.

“Now,” he rasped in her ear, fingers tracing the skin of her fingers beneath his. “Are you ready to behave yourself, Ms. French?”

“Not on your life,” his vixen growled back, pushing away from him and backing up further from the fence. Her face was flushed with the cold wind off the bay and the start of arousal but she calmly kept his gaze as she managed to easily back up in six inch heels.

His Lacey.

“If I have to come in there and get you,” he chided, turning his head to check behind him. “I’ll be most unhappy.”

“Tell you what,” Lacey said after a moment. “There’s a mini golf course back here- how about a quick game and then we’ll be off?”

Gold mulled it over for a moment, the breeze from the bay ruffling his hair around his jacket’s collar. Lacey as usual had on barely enough to keep from turning blue but she seemed to have some kind of inner fire that kept her warm despite the frigid air. She certainty had a way of warming his blood that did the trick better than any whiskey ever had.

“One game,” Gold found himself agreeing, walking over towards the padlocked fence gate.

“It’s locked, Gold.”

“Is it?” He asked calmly, reaching down and pulling with a sharp twist. He enjoyed the look of surprise on her face as the rusted lock gave way in his grip, the old fence swinging open to admit him.

He held up the padlock for her observance, before neatly placing it back in place in case anyone wandered by in the interim. Lacey was shaking her head fondly at him as he approached her, eyes sparkling in the spring sunlight.

“You,” she said as he neared her. “Are a very tricky man, you know that?”

“Have to keep you with you,” he demurred, offering his arm to her. Lacey looped it through, tossing her hair back over her shoulder in exasperation but as they walked towards the old course, she put her head on his shoulder.

They carefully picked their way through the abandoned park. Gold glanced around for irons or balls, quirking an eyebrow at her in silent commentary of her plan.

“Please,” she said with a sniff. “Like this is my first time doing this?”

And stalking away from him, Lacey bent around some overgrown bushes, popping back up with two old rusted irons and a blue and green golf ball that looked as if they had seen better days.

“Just have to keep score in our head,” Lacey explained, handing him the taller iron. Gold frowned at it, thinking sickly of the other men Lacey must have brought here after a late night at the Rabbit Hole. 

But she noticed his distanced look. Before he could sink into the darkness of his thoughts, she had his chin in her hand, tilting it up to gaze into hers.

“I used to come here to think,” she said quietly, stroking the soft skin of his lips with her fingertips. “No one could bother me here. The high school kids come here sometimes to drink but that ‘s it- trust me.”

With a shake of his head, Gold shrugged innocently as he pushed past her towards the first hole. “I could care less about your past, Ms. French,” he lied smoothly, years of practice making it almost sound believable. “Now, how about a wager?”

“A bet?” Lacey laughed, propping herself up on a nearby stonewall and crossing her legs. He followed the long lean lines of her legs up to where they disappeared underneath her wool skirt. “Isn’t that what got us into this mess to begin with?”

“If you are implying our continued acquaintance is a mess-“ Gold mumbled grumpily, dropping his ball on the worn green sod of the first hole.

“Oh, our continued acquaintance?” Lacey mimicked him, eyes blazing. “That’s what this is?’

“I was just-“

“Alright, Gold,” Lacey agreed in a dangerously rational voice. She idly tapped her chin with the handle of her putter. “If you win, we continue this ‘acquaintance’ of ours.”

He didn’t look back at her, his jaw clenched in an unpleasant way at the lightness of her tone. “But if I win-“ she continued, an odd uncertainty entering her voice. “You have to agree that we’re friends.”

Gold felt his heart fumble to a stop, constricting nastily in his chest in a way he hadn’t realized he could still feel. Not since he had closed his heart-

“Lace,” he sighed, turning to face her but his girl was staring definitely back at him, finger raised to silence him.

“Deal?” She demanded.

Both of them silently recalled the last deal they had made. The one that had brought them together despite themselves.

“Deal,” he found himself consenting, nodding in grave agreement.

“Good,” she remarked casually, looking away. “You go first. Age before beauty.”

Gold watched her for a moment longer, noticing the tense way she held her head away from him as if she would break if she caught his gaze.

Without much effort, he hit the ball, watching it slide down the worn rugged fake grass before sliding gracefully into the hole.

“Seriously?” He heard Lacey exclaim hotly, climbing down from her perch and stomping across the cracked pavement in her ridiculous heels.

“I’m rather good at golf,” Gold said with a wolfish grin. “Didn’t I mention?”

“We’ll see about that,” Lacey growled, pushing him out of the way she bent to place her ball.

 

Eight holes later, Gold had Lacey pressed up against an old windmill, skirt hiked up around her waist as he buried himself in her. He groaned helplessly at the sensations between her warmth and the cool air as he pulled out of her before plunging back in.

“Gold,” she was moaning, trying to talk despite his hand clapped over her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure.

 

“Yes, dearie?” He panted, flicking a hand across her nipple and eliciting another delicious whimper from her.

“We didn’t finish-“ She paused, throwing her head back as a spasm of pleasure swept through her petite frame. Gold took the opportunity to bury his face in her neck, biting down as he tried to hold out on his own release.

“Hush, sweetheart,” he murmured soothingly, tracing the curve of her breasts through her sweater.

“But the bet-“

“I think we both won,” he ground out, grinding his hips into her ass as she arched her back to meet him.

If her continued moans were any indication, she rather agreed with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: It's one of their birthdays and the other tries to find the perfect gift.

Staring out the kitchen window, Gold tried to banish the dark thoughts that had plagued him since he had awoken earlier that morning. The Saturday sun was rising through a cloudless sky but his mood refused to brighten.

“Gold?”

Turning his head, he found Lacey draped in the top sheet from his bed, lounging against the doorway to the kitchen.

“Those sheets are worth more than you make in a month,” Gold informed her curtly before he turned back to his coffee press. “Take care you don’t drag them on the floor.”

“Oh?”

With the soft rustling of the Egyptian cotton his only warning, Gold suddenly found himself wrapped in the embrace of soft curves and the smell of roses. The thin dressing robe he wore over his own nudity suddenly felt heavy and stifling.

“Well, then,” Lacey whispered into his hair as she slowly slid her free hand into his robe front. “I suppose you’ll have to take me back to bed-“

Groaning, Gold managed to put down his cup before he spilled it down his front as Lacey’s wandering hand found her target.

Neither paid any attention to the clock over the stove blinking a reminder that it was already half past nine as they sank to the floor. The sheet crushed beneath them as they melted together in the morning light pouring through the window.

 

 

By the time Gold reached the pawnshop, it was already close to noon. He had left Lacey curled up in the bed, fighting to stay awake so she could read the first edition of The Old Man and the Sea she had found in his library.

By that afternoon, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. He could feel the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion in his head. His leg throbbed as a reminder both of his age, lack of sleep and his recent increase in physical activity.

But that same reminder also caused other things to throb slightly causing Gold to shift slightly at the desk in the back of his shop. Luckily it had been a slow day, just a few in to sell old family trinkets worth nothing more than the sentiments the owner bestowed upon them. He would be able to finish up the books within the hour and make his way home.

With any luck, his guest was still curled up where he had left her. Her hair mussed and tangled, lips still swollen from his mouth-

The tell tale sound of the chimes over the front door interrupted his musings as they announced the arrival of a customer. Standing from his desk, Gold grabbed his cane, fingers flexing around it as he resisted the urge to brandish it at the late arrival. He slowly made his way through the curtain to greet whoever was heedless enough to walk into his store moments before the closing time clearly stated upon the door.

As he entered the shop, eyes flashing in warning, he aburptly found himself staring at the brown and red tinted curls he had just been thinking about. Lacey was flipping the shop’s sign to closed, locking the door and drawing the shade.

“Can I help you?” He drawled, eyebrow quirking. Lacey turned to him with a smile before her gaze started to drift around the store.

“Perhaps,” she said coyly. He stood rigidly behind his counter, eyes tracking her movement throughout his store. It had been a while since she had come by the shop. They had both agreed it was better to avoid attention. Neither was popular with the people of Storybrooke and neither had much interest in providing fodder for the gossipmongers.

Tracing her fingers over the glass countertops, Lacey made a low humming noise in the back of her throat. Gold’s fingers flexed against his cane as he watched her, noting the odd trench coat she was wearing despite the cold but bright day.

“We’re closing shortly,” Gold mentioned, glancing down at his watch. “I’ll have to ask you to conclude your business quickly.”

“Oh?” Lacey replied, drifting towards his counter. Their eyes locked in the darkening shadows but neither moved to the light switch conveniently behind him. Gold felt his breath hitch as she came close enough for him to see the delicate bones of her sternum winking from the gaping coat.

Glancing down, Lacey followed the direction of his gaze. Looking back up with a wicked smile, she slowly took her hand from her pocket to scatter a few dollars upon the till between them.

“What’ll this buy me?” She asked breathlessly, already moving her hand to untie the coat’s sash. Gold’s leg was all but forgotten as he moved around the counter to capture her lips as she flicked open the large coat.

Feeling her mouth, hot and open beneath his, Gold barely noticed her hand was still working to unbutton her coat until she let out a moan of frustration.

“Allow me,” he murmured as he moved his lips to her throat. He was rewarded with her sudden and high-pitched intake of breath as he found her pulse point and started to worry it with his tongue. His right hand dropped from her hair to bat away her hand from her coat, flicking open the last two buttons to free her from the horrid thing.

Only to find-

“Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” Gold rasped as his fingers slowly parted the coat to reveal the bare skin beneath it.

“I didn’t want to go home to get fresh clothes,” Lacey whispered as her arms came up to drape over his shoulders. Her new position caused the coat to gape open slightly, revealing her breasts, nipples hard from the cold air and her slightly spread thighs. Her short curls were glistening already. “And I didn’t want to ruin any of your suits-“

Gold slowly sank to his knees, the sharp spike of pain in his bad leg forgotten mere seconds later as he buried his face in her sex. Everything else faded away but the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her hands in his hair, and the sound of her whimpers echoing in his ears.

 

“You awake?”

“No,” Gold mumbled, nestling his face deeper into the curls at the back of her neck. They had closed up the shop and been equally ravenous. Naturally, he knew Lacey’s apartment would just had empty bottles of wine and a few freezer dinners and he didn’t trust her to eat instead of drink. So, he had just driven them back to his place.

And then of course, he had been too tired to drive her back home and he wasn’t letting her out of his sight with just a trench coat and platform heels covering her. So, she was staying the night.

Again.

For the fourth night in a row.

“Liar,” she whispered, wiggling her rear end against his groin. “I can feel you.”

“You certainty can not,” Gold sighed, twisting his face as her hair tickled his nose. “Four times in one day is miraculous for a man my age, my dear.”

Lacey shifted and Gold found himself grasping empty air for a moment as she turned to face him in the dim light of the bedroom. Her blue eyes shone through the remnants of mascara and eyeliner she had tried half heartedly to wash off earlier.

She slipped her arms over him, her feet, always freezing, finding his warmer ones and idly toying with them as she gazed into his tired eyes.

“About that,” she whispered, eyes flickering guiltily. “I know today’s your birthday…”

Gold hadn’t expected that. He raised an eyebrow at her as his hands went around her back to play idly with the curls resting there.

“And how do you know that?” He asked, tugging a curl sharply.

“I went through your wallet,” Lacey admitted, closing one eye and peering up at him with the other squinted. “I was trying to find out your horoscope-“

“My horoscope?” Gold repeated, incredulously.

“Well, Ruby was saying-“

“Ruby again?” Gold sighed, closing his eyes. “I thought you were going to start focusing more on that online degree you mentioned-“

“I can apply for colleges and hang out with my friends,” Lacey defended hotly. He felt her muscles tense up in his arms and he pulled his arms back.

“I suppose so,” he said drily. His chest was seizing up strangely which was ridiculous. In their current casual arrangement, he had no desire to complicate it with feelings or titles. If she chose to, she could start dating someone tomorrow and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

Well, beside break the sod’s kneecaps-

“Gold,” Lacey murmured with a sigh, reaching a hand up to rest against his chest. “I don’t want to fight-“

“We aren’t,” he said shortly.

“Look,” she said sharply, flicking his arm with her hand before moving it back to his shoulder. “The point is- I’ve been going nuts this past week trying to figure out what to get you.”

“You don’t have to get me anything,” Gold sighed, turning on his back to stare up at the ceiling. “When you’re my age, birthdays lack any excitement beyond the brief thrill of knowing you’ve survived another year.”

He felt her still beside him and he closed his eyes, ready to drop the subject when he felt her roll on top of him.

He opened his eyes as the achingly familiar but addictive feel of her wet heat slid across his member.

“Lace,” he warned. But she ignored him, moving her hips in a slow figure eight as she glared down at him.

“I couldn’t afford to get you the scotch you like,” she ground out. “Or buy you a new suit. Hell, I tried to buy a tie but my credit card got declined.”

He closed his eyes as his member started to respond to her, protesting at first but slowly rising to the challenge. He felt her breath intake as she started to rub her clit against his head, feeling the pressure building between them.

“So, I tried to make something,” Somehow she was still speaking, even when his fingers reached up to clasp her thighs. “But then you came over the other night and laughed at it-“

Gold felt like he should apologize for that, but she seemed to have other ideas. Within a second, she had his cock in her hand and was sliding down on to it, hissing slightly. She must have been as sensitive as he was because her usual rough and rowdy pace was slow, deliberate.

His fingers moved up to her hips, guiding her in this new tempo as his eyes drifted up to her chest. Her collarbone was red with his bites from earlier and her breasts were rubbed raw from his stubble. He felt a tightening in his sac as he arched up to meet her downward thrusts.

“God knows,” Lacey moaned as he reached out to cup one of her breasts, rolling the nipple in his fingers. “I can’t cook or bake- so that- that- oh yes, god right there- that was out of the question-“

“So,” she continued as if she wasn’t slowly driving him insane with the way she was sinking down on him before pulling completely off him in a tortuously slow movement. “I figured I’d give you the best birthday of your life.”

“And how did you think to do that?” Gold managed to keep his voice calm. He knew as well as Lacey that it was complete bullshit. His fingers were rolling her nipple and his other hand was frantically rubbing her clit as if his life depended on it.

And maybe it did, he thought hazily as she seized up around him. He continued to roll the two nerves as best he could in his shaking haze of arousal. Her body squeezed him as she came on top of him, shuddering and crying out as she went boneless.

He came moments later. One or two more snaps of his hips and the way her eyes opened, hazy with sated desire, to stare at his lips and he was gone.

As she slowly slid to the side of him, he took her in his arms. He briefly wondered why he felt the need to constantly be touching her despite their casual sex only arrangement but he didn’t dwell on it. His brain was fried from his fifth orgasm of the day and he could barely keep his eyes open.

“By making you feel young again,” Lacey whispered before her voice broke in a massive yawn. She burrowed her head into his chest. Slowly, her breathing evened out as she slipped into sleep.

Gold felt the answering tug behind his own eyelids but he fought it for a moment, watching the clock tick closer and closer to midnight.

He was going to enjoy the last seconds of today.

Not because she had made him feel young again. No, that was impossible with the graying hair and the aching leg and the wrinkles around his eyes.

But because despite everything, she had somehow managed to make him feel alive again.

As he closed his eyes as the grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway rang midnight, Gold briefly made a mental note to check her driver’s license in the morning.

He fell asleep to the scent of roses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: After the curse.

Belle’s confinement itched away at her. 

Sighing, the brunette shifted her weight on the luxurious window seat, resting her forehead against the cool glass. The unnaturally warm autumn night warmed the windowpane but it offered little comfort. 

“Stay here,” he had said before disappearing out of the door of this residence. Belle had watched as he walked to the car parked outside, started it and disappeared down the road in a cloud of exhaust.

Quite different from the cloud of smoke in which he usually disappeared. 

Off to see the Charmings, he had explained as he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. Opening for him, Belle had tilted her head, hands coming up to his shoulders instinctively as her hips pushed forward against his own. 

Rumple had practically jumped out of his skin at the forwardness of it. With a far less passionate kiss to her forehead, he departed to settle old scores recently awoken.

Leaving her in a house that felt equally strange and familiar. Too many memories pushed and prodded at her in the silence of the boundless rooms. 

But none of them were her memories. She had wandered around, fingers tracing the kitchen counter where they had tasted more than just their breakfast coffee. She moved into the living room where the couch reminded her of the numerous times a movie had failed to fully divert their attention from one another. Stopping short of the bedroom where the king bed lay perfectly made, Belle turned and headed back down the stairs. She knew without trying what the master bath would smell of- his cologne and body wash and she did not want to look at herself in the full length mirror.

For every time she caught her reflection, a ragged waif stared back at her with startled eyes and hollow cheeks. The Lady Belle of the Dark Castle in her cloaks and day dresses seemed to elude her no matter what smile she practiced or what way she twisted her hair.

Nor did the easy seductive charm and brash confidence of Lacey seem attainable. 

Rumple had left strict instructions for her to stay inside. Upon their arrival home, she didn’t move from her silent and uncertain spot in the passenger seat. Only when Rumple had coaxed her had she realized they had arrived at his home. Trying to wade through the mess of memories flooding her mind, she barely noticed him weave a protection spell over the property before hustling her inside. 

“Plenty of enemies still,” he had sighed as he unbuttoned the coat her had thrown over her in the forest. But he had still left her. Disappearing off to further his plans, mysterious as always. 

The window seat was the one spot Lacey had seemed to never notice. So, Belle took her refuge in it, curling her feet under a tartan blanket and gazing out upon the street. Here at least odd memories of Rumple’s touch didn’t plague her into a tangle of nerves and longings that terrified her with their urgencies. 

Here, she was Belle, waiting for him to return. It could have been any night at the Dark Castle. Instead, it was in a land called Storybrooke with rules and players that suddenly seemed of great importance despite her never having heard of them in her life. Here, years had ticked away as she had sat confined in a padded room, lost in the silence of her enchanted mind. 

Closing her eyes against the sudden terror of the large metal door porthole sliding open, or the faint memory of a pirate striding into her tower room back when hope was still her faithful companion, Belle let a tear slip down her cheek. 

Before it dropped from her chin, she was startled by, “Belle? Sweetheart, what is it?” Rumple stood before her, brow scrunched in frantic concern. 

“How did you-“ she began but he shook his head as he sat beside her. 

“Magic, dearie,” he whispered as he tucked some strands behind her ear. “Do you really think I would leave you without making sure I would know if you were in any sort of distress?”

“Rumple,” Belle whispered, letting her eyes fall closed again. She pressed forward, resting her forehead against his own. “Is it like this for everyone?” 

He didn’t ask her to clarify. Instead, she found herself being tucked into his arms, one stroking her back in slow solid sweeps and the other holding her head to his chest. “Undoubtedly,” he answered in a rare candid moment. A deep sigh racked his body. Belle pushed away slightly so she could look up into his face. Deep lines of care and concern were written there but as he saw her gaze, he relaxed so he appeared fully at peace. Belle decided to let it go, not that he fooled her with his calm words and easy reassurances. But he was trying in his own way and she would let him, if just for the sake of being close to him once again. 

“I missed you,” she confessed, hand drifting up to cup his cheek. “Even when I didn’t know my own name…” 

His eyes hardened at her words. So, the old rage and anger of the Dark One was still very much a part of him Belle realized with a sinking clarity. 

“I’m here now,” he leaned down to press another soft kiss upon her lips. “You must be starving. Let’s get you something to eat, sweetheart.” Belle shook her head, clinging to him tighter.

“I had some leftovers,” she shared, tracing his suit lapel.

“Oh,” he responded distractedly. A boldness blossomed in her as she slowly raised herself up, fingers still holding on to his suit collar. Rumple’s eyes fixed on her lips, drifting down for a moment before snapping back up.

“Rumple,” Belle breathed as she leaned across the meager distance between them. He exhaled her name like a mantra but he did not look away. When her lips first touched his, Belle felt a thrill run through her. A moment of pure connection passed between her heart and his. She reveled in it as she slowly opened her lips, nibbling his bottom lip until he opened to her. His tongue darted out to taste her own lips before his hands slowly tightened on her. The kiss filled her with a sweet longing and a desperate pain, but she let the kiss fade away, pulling back regretfully. Rumple let her go but his hand stayed clenched in her hair and ragged hospital gown. “Sorry,” Belle mumbled, letting her hand push silver strands from his face behind his ear. “I know you don’t like me to kiss you-“ 

He didn’t let her finish. Before she could react, he had pulled her to his chest, tilting her head so he could open her mouth his tongue. Belle felt a moan wrench from her throat, a relieved noise as she finally tasted him once more. His hand rubbed circles at the small of her back as his other hand gently pulled at her ragged tresses. He tasted of coffee and magic, a deeply bitter tang that made her blood sing. Or perhaps that was just his effect on her. Belle felt another moan tug from her lips as his hand dipped to touch the skin of her exposed back, warm fingers sprayed across her spine as he cupped the rounding of her ass in his palm. 

Yet, it had the effect of ice water on him. Instantly pulling back, he buried his face in her neck, mumbling, “Oh, sweetheart, forgive me. Forgive me, I’m sorry-“ 

“Rumple,” Belle exclaimed, trying not to rub herself against him. A blush rose in her cheeks as her past and cursed self vied for dominance in her current behavior. “What’s wrong?” “You deserve better,” he mumbled into her neck, but his hand moved to her arm, stroking the skin there idly. “Better than a old man and a beast forcing themselves upon you-“ 

“Wait just a moment, Rumpelstiltskin,” Belle admonished, pushing him away from her. She grabbed at his hands before he could retreat from the window seat, pressing them until he met her eyes. She was surprised at the self-loathing in them, the uncertainty and disgust at himself made her heart break. By an entirely different need was also making itself known to her and as her eyes drifted down for a second, she realized he was feeling similar effects.

“I once kissed you in the hopes of saving you,” Belle reminded him, even as the memory stung at her. “And when you let fear and power come between us, I refused to sit and wait for you to come to your senses. I left you alone and I paid the price for my impulsiveness.”

“Belle,” he croaked but she raised a finger, pressing it against his lips to silence him. 

“I don’t know how to reconcile who I am with what Regina made me,” Belle admitted, glancing down at her ragged gown. “Part of me was always drawn to danger, perhaps Lacey was the embodiment of all the things I buried in myself as the lady of nobility. Perhaps it was the Queen’s way of shaming me, keeping me in a prison far more punishing than stonewalls and iron bars, but I still found you Rumple. That means something,” she stressed, squeezing his hands in hers. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to understand everything I did while I was cursed but I know out of it all, it led me to you.” 

Gold didn’t speak, eyes searching hers as if hoping to find his voice in her eyes. Belle gave him a small smile, licking her lips uncertainty. “I saw the man in the beast once,” Belle continued, thumbs tracing over the ridges of his knuckles. “And I loved him then. And I love him now. Please let me…” 

“Sweetheart,” Rumple shook his head in disbelief even as he stood. Stung, Belle let his hands go, only to find him holding hers now, pulling her up and off the window seat. “I know every inch of your skin, every taste of you, every scent – and I am still constantly surprised by you,” he murmured. Belle felt tears prick her eyes, blurring the man before her so only his voice was clear. “I want nothing more than to take you upstairs and lose myself as I have done before- but I do not know what tomorrow will bring. I cannot promise anything more than my love and devotion to you, and to cherish you above all else. Which means giving you time to come to terms with what has happened to you. To us all. ” 

And as he finished speaking, he leaned in to brush a faint kiss along her lips. Belle let her eyes close as she savored the feeling and in that brief moment, the phantom of Lacey and the obligations of Belle faded away until it was just her standing there before the man she loved. “We can do this,” he whispered softly. “Together.”

As he brushed another kiss against her trembling lips, the heat of his chest pressed to hers, Belle could not see Rumpelstiltskin, Mr. Gold or the spinner he once been long, long ago.

In that infinite moment, it was just the two of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mr. Gold and Lacey get into a drinking contest at the Rabbit Hole. (Can be from the Melt Away verse or separate.)
> 
> Please like I’m going to miss a chance to write drunken smut....
> 
> AN: First of all, this is set relatively soon after the one shot. Now that the verse is growing, I'll try to be speciifc about when in the timeline it is happening. 
> 
> Also, I have August Booth in here- even though this bit is set way before the curse is broken. In this verse, August was aware of Storybrooke and came to visit occasionally, since no one remembered him when he left. Good place to hide out if you're a douche man puppet.

“Excuse me dearie, is this seat taken?”

Turning away from Beanstalk Jack, so named for his gangly appearance and his famed dick, Lacey found herself looking up at the last person she had expected to wander into the Rabbit Hole.

She turned fully away from Jack to better look up at Gold through her lashes. “Why, Mr. Gold,” she purred. “What a surprise.”

Unhappy at being ignored, Jack’s clammy hand came to rest on her garter belt where her mini skirt had ridden up. “Hey Lacey,” Jack whispered. “How about we get outta here?”

“Jack was just leaving,” Lacey murmured without turning from Gold. “Run along, now Jackie, that’s a good boy.”

“But I-“

“You heard the lady,” Gold growled. She felt Jack hastily remove his hand from her and soon both seats beside her were empty. 

Lacey pouted, “You scared him.” She lifted her scotch to her lips to hide her smile as Gold settled himself in a chair two down from her. He gracefully settled himself in the high chair lining the bar, hanging his cane from the bar’s railing as he caught the eye of the bartender. 

Indicating her drink, he held up two fingers. The bartender immediately moved to the high-end liquor cabinet at the center of the bar, abandoning the cheaper brands Lacey usually saw ordered.

“My, my,” she murmured. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Where were you last night?” Gold inquired as he surveyed the smoky room. The bar was situated in the middle of the room, all four sides available for service. Lacey preferred the far west wall that was close to the back wall of the bar. It made it easy to slip out. 

With a clink of glass, the bartender set their double scotches down before them before disappearing to the other side of the bar. Jack was sulking over by the pool tables where Keith was hustling his usual game. 

Lacey shrugged, letting her knee high boot heel rub against his bad leg in a soothing caress. They had their own unspoken rules, including no fraternizing in public but he had sought her out. And beside, no one could see below the bar…

“I went home,” Lacey told him, picking up the fresh scotch. “Didn’t feel like coming over to be ignored.”

He scoffed, glaring at a patron who was making his way towards the empty seat beside Lacey. She was amused to see the color drain out of the lesser man’s face before he turned and hurriedly made his way towards the darts. 

“I’m a busy man,” he defended curtly but she noticed he didn’t pull his leg away from her ministrations. Beside his right arm had nestled near her, close enough for her to brush with her chest if she leaned forward just so. “I can’t drop everything, every time you feel randy.”

Stilling her foot, Lacey twisted her hips away from him. Buying herself a moment to collect her thoughts lest she snap out in haste, she took a long sip of her scotch, savoring the feel of the ice cubes against her lips. With a sigh of satisfaction, she lowered the glass and leaned back in the high backed chair. Draping her arms on the back, she gave a saucy smile when she caught the eyes of a young girl watching them from the other end of the bar.

The girl colored slightly but didn’t look away. 

“Oh, Gold, look,” Lacey murmured. “I think you have a fan.”

The older man glanced up to find the blonde staring at him in interest. Again, the color rose in her pink cheeks but she smiled hesitatingly at Gold before she glanced back at her drink.

“Adorable,” Lacey sneered. “She’s practically in pigtails.”

“Jealous?” Gold said as he wrapped his lips around his glass. “How petty, dearie.”

“I am not jealous,” Lacey shot back with a laugh. Neither of them had looked at each other but the game was obvious. “I could get any man in here.”

“How telling,” he chuckled. 

“Fine,” Lacey said with a hint of a growl in her own voice. “Let’s see who can get someone’s number first. Loser buys the drinks.”

“Deal,” he agreed. “But there are rules.”

Lacey snorted. “There always are you with you.”

“First, you cannot ask for a number. They must offer it.”

“Done.”

“Second, you cannot leave the common area. The second you disappear into the bathroom or in the alley, our little game is over.”

“Easy.”

“Third,” and here he stood, collecting his cane as he picked up his drink. He didn’t bother to look down at her, but she knew his entire focus was on her. “I will break anyone’s arm if they so much as touch you in a way I deem inappropriate.”

Lacey unfolded herself from the chair, sliding the empty glass back across the bar. With a lick of her lips, she brushed past him, chest grazing his bicep, causing a delightful tingling despite the layers between their skin. “You’re on, old man.”

 

Over an hour later, Lacey was practically biting a hole through her own lip. 

“Your turn, doll.”

Pulling her eyes off Gold, who was casually leaning against the bar, face inches away from little Miss Goldilocks from earlier, Lacey tried to focus on the game at hand.

Keith and Jack had made themselves scarce when she had strutted over to the pool area. Luckily, there were a few men drunk enough to forget Lacey’s infamous pool ability, including a relative newcomer to town, August Booth. 

Bending down to line up the shot, Lacey purposefully had been stacking the table so her shot would either give Gold the perfect view of her skirt riding up over her garter belts or a tantalizing look down her unbuttoned blouse. 

The bastard had ignored her every time, focusing on the pink-lipped doe eyed child whore at the bar. August on the other hand seemed to be enjoying the show, not even being smart enough to realize it wasn’t for him.

Aligning her hips with August who stood directly behind her, Lacey pushed them until they were locked against his own. With a soft moan, she wiggled slightly against the zipper of his jeans.

Wooden hard against her already, Lacey was almost surprised when she didn’t feel the usual pull of desire she usually did when she knew a man wanted her. Instead, she blinked away the sensation of disgust and hit the cue ball.

With a click, it snapped against the final striped ball and rolled straight into the corner pocket. 

Before she could straighten in victory and align herself with the eight ball, she felt August’s hands on her hips.

Bending down, he pushed her into the table slightly as he whispered in her ear,” Shall we finish this game elsewhere?”

Lacey’s eyes flickered back to Gold but he seemed unaware of another man lying on top of her. His earlier bravado was forgotten in the face of the young beauty practically drooling on him.

Lacey’s stomach twisted in an unusual feeling that she dismissed before she could properly label it. With a twist, she managed to peel herself out of the unwanted embrace, moving gracefully to the eight ball where she called her shot and then sank it in the span of a minute. 

Handing the stick to a slightly confused Booth, she shrugged her shoulders. 

“I only play with winners,” she dismissed him succinctly before making her way back to her earlier spot at the bar. She brushed past Gold and Goldilocks without pausing. The bartender had a scotch waiting for her before she settled herself back in place. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled, lifting it to her mouth to chase out the cheap tequila shot August had gotten her earlier. Even her taste in alcohol was shifting. 

The sound of a cane clicking against the brass railing of the bar caught her attention but she didn’t turn as Gold settled back beside her. 

He pushed a piece of paper over to her, digits and a heart staring up at her even in the dark of the hole in the wall bar. She was disgusted to see the word “Goldie’s” above the digits. 

“Match made in heaven,” she mumbled into her drink. “You can take little miss jailbait home with you. I might have to work off the tab, so I’ll be a while.”

Before she could push away from the bar and away from him, she felt his hand grab her knee under the bar. 

“What did I say about someone touching you?” He said, tone steady and even. 

Lacey remained perfectly still, eyes straight ahead as his hand flipped back the skirt hem to reveal her thighs. 

“You were busy with the bimbo at the bar,” Lacey reminded him, causing him to scratch her thigh gently with his nails. 

“I was playing the game.” His thumb found her seam through the lace of her panties. 

“Hmm,” he murmured in approval. “You didn’t enjoy Mr. Booth’s ministrations?”

“He’s just a boy,” Lacey ground out as his thumb started to trace figure eights against her sensitive flesh. 

“And she was just a child playing dress up,” he admitted. “I barely heard a word she mumbled over the sound of you laughing with that idiotic blockhead.”

“Gold,” Lacey murmured as she pitched forward slightly when his thumb found her sensitive spot with a flick. 

“Careful, dearie,” he warned her as he dipped a finger inside the lining of the lace. “You mustn’t make a scene.”

Arranging her face in a poker face, Lacey tried to keep her hips from wiggling as he gently drew more and more sensations out of her through the languid stroking. 

When he inserted one finger inside her, sliding into the wet heat as if it belonged there, Lacey had to moan into her drink to mask the sound.

“That’s a girl,” he encouraged. He was leaning into the bar to hide his left hand’s ministrations as his right hand continued to rest neatly on his scotch glass. “I want you to come for me, Lacey. Right here in this spot, so every time you come here without me, you remember that these little boys don’t do it for you anymore.”

“Gold,” she hissed, even as her hips rolled forward to take him deeper inside her. His other digits brushed against her folds as his middle finger crooked upwards, hitting that spot that drove her crazy.

His thumb moved in circles as if independent of his other fingers, but her new hip position made it impossible for him to continue. Instead his knuckles rubbed against her clit, causing her to buck slightly in her chair. 

“Lean forward and put your arms on the bar,” he said under his breath, raising his right hand to get the bartender’s attention. Lacey whimpered but as the bartender’s eyes rested on hers, she quickly did as she was told, putting her head in her arms. 

“Yes?” the bartender asked, just as Gold pushed another finger inside her. Lacey groaned at the sensation, shaking slightly as he continued to pump his wrist slowly.

“The lady here has had too much to drink. Put her tab on the house. I’ll make sure she gets in a taxi.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Gold,” came the response. 

“Oh, and the gentleman playing pool over there?” She didn’t have to look to know Gold was indicating August. “He’s not longer welcome in this establishment. Please tell hi his card was declined and have him removed at once.”

A grunt followed before the bartender moved away. 

“What?” Lacey managed as he tried to find some relief by pressing her chest into the bar rail. Her voice came out breathy even to her ears. 

“Oh,” Gold whispered wickedly in her ear as his free hand came to flick at her nipples through the sweater she was wearing. “Didn’t I mention I own the Rabbit Hole?”

As his fingers plucked the bud of her sex and twisted her right nipple in tandem, Lacey shuddered, fingers clenched into fists as she rode out her orgasm on the wobbly bar chair. She felt every muscle tighten and then relax, bones shaking as the pleasure mounted and ebbed in an intensity she had rarely felt before.

She felt Gold pull out from her, a final stroke of her clit caused her to shudder again but when she lifted her head, the bartender was just shaking his head at her inability to hold her drink.

“He bought that ‘I’m drunk’ bit?” Lacey gasped as she tried to get her heart rate back down. “He’s seen me drink grown men under the table.”

“Ah, dearie,” Gold said, collecting his cane as he straightened. He buried his hand, coated in her fluids into his jacket pocket. “When will you learn that people see what they want to see?”

Offering her his arm, Lacey took it, still shaky from her intense orgasmic release. He took them to the back door, letting them out into the cold night air of early March before they started to head towards the Pawn Shop where she knew his car would be waiting. 

“So,” he murmured, still holding on to her hand despite being out in public. “You enjoyed the thrill of an audience, sweetheart?”

“Don’t’ call me sweetheart,” Lacey panted, her breath puffs in the cold night air. “And just wait till I get you home, I’m going to make you pay for trying to pick up Goldie back there.”

“I can hardly wait,” he quipped. But when his hand tightened on her’s, Lacey ignored the burst of warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, so I hope you liked Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk and Goldilocks- sure they are orignal characters- but hey, fairytale characters all the same.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zelena didn't realize that Lacey was a force to reckoned with. (Bonus points if Lacey gets to punch her in the face!)
> 
> So, I forgot this was a Melt Away prompt when I was writing it... oops.
> 
> So, this is set after Regina's curse has broken- when Zelena manages to recurse the whole town into their cured personas and take Regina's place- but with some differences.

Looking back on things, Zelena could openly admit her grand scheme had its weaknesses. 

First off, perhaps ruling Storybrooke was not the coup d’état she had thought it to be. The town, while surprisingly large, was still a rather boring New England town. The harbor constantly smelled of rotting fish, the streets always iced up whenever it dropped below thirty and Granny’s closed before eight every night. 

Secondly, playing Madam Mayor bored her beyond belief. With her perfect little sister locked away in the mental ward below the joke of a hospital, Zelena had easily stepped into Regina’s place in the newly cursed town of Storybrooke. 

The third and most pressing issue at hand was simple. Ruling without adversary or challenge was devastatingly dull. 

Slouched in her wing backed leather office chair, Zelena submitted to her ennui, letting out a short huff as she crossed her legs under the mahogany desk. Tapping her pencil to the beat of that terrible and yet oddly catchy song that the one radio station played on an endless loop, Zelena reflected on her options. 

Uncurse the town. Simple, effective and also a sure way to get herself killed. Sure with Emma and the only teenager in all of Storybrooke out of her hair, safely entrapped in the Sorcerer’s hat, she had little worries about anything else breaking her little enchantment. But as soon as she twitched her little finger, she’d have an angry mob on her hands. 

Not to mention a certain all-powerful sorcerer who had already proven to be unreasonably vengeful when things didn’t go his way.

“Zelena? Sweetheart?”

Speaking of…

“Rummy! Do come in, where have you been?” Zelena pouted at him, pushing her shoulders together in just the right way to push her chest out invitingly. The smaller man who had just entered the room smiled, tight lips spread bloodlessly over his closed mouth as his eyes stay fixedly on her face. “You were supposed to be here hours ago!”

“I’m barely fifteen minutes later,” he sighed. “I was delayed at the pawn shop.”

“Oh, that dirty place. I don’t understand why you insist on keeping it open. No one’s been in for months now.”

A small crease appeared between his brows as the man now only known as Mr. Gold stared back at her. “I had someone in just yesterday-“

With a dramatic exhalation, Zelena stood, coming around the desk to press up behind him. “Of course, dear. My mistake. Days just all kind of run together, don’t they?” With a small murmur of self-agreement, she let herself slowly run her hands down his three-piece suit.

“Zelena, sweetheart,” Gold murmured in his familiar world-weary tone. “We’ve talked about this.” 

With a scoff, Zelena pried herself away, flipping her red curls behind her shoulder as she glared down at him. “Fine. But one of these days you’ll have to do more than kiss me goodbye at the door.”

Another frown fell upon his face as he looked up at her from under the graying locks of hair that framed his face so neatly. “I’m old fashioned,” he explained even as Zelena sighed in defeat, throwing her hands up and turning away from him. She knew this next part by heart. So, she mouthed it along with him. “I wait until I’m in an established relationship before I start relations with a woman. I’m a difficult man to love and I want to make sure we are doing this for the right reasons-“

“Fine, fine,” Zelena snapped, growing bored. She knew this argument by heart. It was only the hundredth time they’d had it…

Glancing out the clock, she noticed it was nearly three fifteen. Hurrying to the window, she made it just in time to see little Mary Margret tottering along the avenue, folders and books pressed tight against her white cardigan breast. She allowed herself a small smile of spite as a police cruiser drove by, Sheriff Nolan not even glancing up from his dashboard as he drove through on his route. It was one of her favorite parts of the day. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“Ugh,” she twisted her head to look at him. He stood where she had left him, leaning on his cane as if he was just waiting for her to come back and wind him up again. She hated that endearment; it came across as condescending, disinterested. “Just come pick me up for dinner at eight.”

He nodded in agreement. Even this Zelena found grating, his polite but begrudging compliance. No small wonder his first wife had left him for a pirate, such insipid loyalty was dull.

“Gepetto’s?” He suggested just as Zelena knew he would. He was glancing down at his pocket watch and once again missed her little mimic routine. 

“Fine,” she agreed with a roll of her eyes. She had eaten every item on the menu at least three times at this point but Gold insisted on dinner dates, despite her best efforts to dissuade him to skip straight to the dessert. 

With a nod and another tight smile, Gold limped out. As the door swung closed behind him, Zelena went to the window. Sure enough, seconds later, he appeared on the sidewalk, and limping down the street back towards that monstrosity pink palace he called home. 

When he had gotten almost out of sight, Zelena turned back towards the phone. With almost six months of gentleman behavior, she was ready to scream and not in the good way. 

Time for something different…

With no hesitation, she entered a quick stroke of numbers, listening to the ringing for a moment before a male’s voice answered gruffly.

“Oh hello, Mr. Loxley, this is Madam Mayor…” The voice on the other hand changed slightly, a more cautious and curious tone followed. “Oh, no, nothing of importance. I just wanted to discuss some rather distressing information that’s crossed my desk-“ 

Seems like she’d have to go with her second option.

Changing things up a bit. 

\--

“Like I said, terribly sorry, can’t make it tonight! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

As the clipped British tones of the Mayor fell away into silence, Gold let out his own sigh of relief. His hand already had gone to his tie, starting to loosen it from the noose around his neck as he toed off his loafers. 

Making his way to the kitchen, he started undoing his cuff links, careful to place them in the coat pocket with his tie clip as he nudged open the fridge with his left elbow. A night in was rare when one was dating a politician and he meant to make the most of it, which involved generous portions of barely cooked red meat and a large helping of scotch-

Yet, the refrigerator, barren except for a molding carton of milk, stared back at him in reproach. Scowling, he closed it, turning for the scotch he kept in the curio cabinet. 

However, when his fingers closed around the bottle, the lightness belayed the even larger issue at hand.

He was out of scotch. 

Standing in his kitchen in his stocking feet, Gold felt frustration swell over him, breaking faintly against his iron self control. With a exhale that was more sigh than scoff, he turned to fish for his cane by the door.

At this hour, Sprat’s Market was closed and he had little interest in going to The Golden Goose for an over priced meal with a glass of watered down scotch. 

No, there was only one establishment in town open past ten where no one would notice if the richest man in town as well as the mayor’s paramour was indulging in his own vices. 

The Rabbit Hole it was. 

\--

“Hey, Lace. Whatcha make of that?”

Surprisingly bright blue eyes turned from the pool cue, sweeping the bar in a predator’s glance. Not finding anything of interest, the woman turned back to her equally staggering companion with an arched brow. 

“Make of what, Rubes?”

The taller brunette, bright streak of crimson in her otherwise black hair, cracked a wolfish grin as she leaned forward. “At the bar, my seven o’clock.”

Lacey turned back to the table, sized up her shot and with an effortless motion, sank the one ball into the corner pocket before straightening with a lazy motion that raised the pool cue just slightly overhead. It had the benefit of letting her bend her head to the side to see around Ruby and also to display the skin of her midriff.

As Ruby bent down to the table, her shorts riding up until they disappeared in her ample bottom, Lacey found what had caught the other woman’s attention.

“That’s Mr. Gold!” She hissed. Ruby ignored her, lining up her shot with a wiggle of her butt that had every man on the left side of the pool table fall suddenly short in their conversations. “What’s he doing here?”

Ruby let the cue smack against the striped ball, pouting prettily as it spun right into the eight ball and then stopped just short of the pocket. “How do I know?” She answered, righting her stick to lean against. “He does own the place.”

“He owns the entire town,” Lacey reminded her, sizing him up from under her lashes. “Hell, your Granny would be retired by now if he didn’t squeeze every tax he could from her.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ruby growled, reaching down to collect her almost empty drink. Over the rim, she caught the eye of a nearby patron, smiling with her scarlet lips before she took a long drink. As the man quickly stood and headed towards the bar, Ruby dropped the act, slamming the rest back as she glanced over at Lacey. “He doesn’t come by the diner- I’ve never seen him on this side of town.”

“Well, it’s either here or Jack & Jill’s,” Lacey pointed out. She didn’t bother to move towards the table, content in current perch along the back wall railing. She had an excellent view of the most hated man in Storybrooke, who was nursing what looked like scotch and glaring daggers at anyone who attempted to catch his eye. Ruby giggled the mention of the town’s one red light spot, so far out of town that it was almost not worth making the trip out there. 

“Yea, like Madam Mayor would let him go there.”

Taking in the half buttoned shirt and the lack of tie, Lacey privately agreed with her friend. The man at the bar was obviously the famed Mr. Gold but his usual three-piece suit armor had chinks in it and his cheeks had a faint dusting of scruff at this late hour. 

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Lacey decided, springing to her feet with ease despite the four-inch heels she was sporting. “He looks like h could use some company.”

“Careful, Lace,” Ruby warned but her latest catch was heading back from the bar. Her new drink high in his hand and hope beaming from his face, he stepped neatly between the two of them. Lacey threw her friend a mischievous look over her shoulder.

“When am I not?”

Sidling up to the bar, Lacey caught the bartender’s attention, nodding expertly to the tequila she usually ordered. He nodded back, lifting a quick finger to let her know it would be just a moment. 

“Hate that,” she murmured to herself but loud enough to catch the attention of the man just across the corner of the bar. He didn’t bother to take the bait, just took another slow drink. Ice cubes rattled hollowly in the glass tumbler but Lacey could see the amber liquid clearly now. “You’re a scotch man? Does this place even have decent scotch in stock?”

Brown eyes lifted from the tumbler, catching hers with a unsettling ease. For a moment, he didn’t speak, just simply stared at her over his drink. Lacey found herself suddenly lost for words as she returned his gaze. 

The sudden click of glass against the wood of the bar broke the spell. “Put it on your tab, Lacey?” 

“Yea, sure, thanks Tom.” Turning back to Gold, Lacey adopted her most winning seductive smile only to find Gold thumbing some large bills out of his money clip. “You’re not leaving?”

He didn’t hesitate, placing them on the bar as he tossed back the last swallow of scotch in his glass. When he placed the glass back down on the bills, he nodded to the bartender before glancing back at her as if she was some afterthought. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” Lacey called out in disbelief, grabbing her tequila and quickly going around the bar to cut him off. “It’s not everyday you meet a tall, dark stranger at a bar.”

He raised one eyebrow at her, glancing down at himself. Lacey couldn’t help but smirk at his quiet but effective rebuttal. “Fine, then. The silent type, then. I can’t remember the last time I heard silence.”

“Perhaps,” and Lacey found his warm Scottish accent was surprisingly attractive despite the well-lined face of the older man. “You should try being quiet one of these days.”

Lifting her glass at his quick diatribe, Lacey took a delicate drink. She kept her eyes on his, careful to keep the status quo. For some reason, he had yet to brush past her into the night and for some reason, she was worried he still might.

“Have a drink with me, stranger.” 

“Why would I do something as mundane as that?” He replied archly. 

“Because,” Lacey grinned at him, lip already nestled between her teeth. “You’re curious.”

Another brow rose, but this one was more inviting. 

“I’ll even buy you another round,” Lacey offered with a shrug. “I just want to pick the brain of the most powerful man in Storybrooke.”

He raised one finger and Lacey found her gaze dropping to it, noticing his hands were surprisingly un-aged, even strong looking in the dimness of the bar. “One question,” he countered. “And if it interests me, I’ll agree to your suggestion.”

“Easy,” Lacey laughed, raising a hand to call Tom back over. “What’s the secret to successfully dating a powerful woman?”

For a moment, he almost appeared taken back but as Tom approached he gave her a slow nod, “Another round, Thomas. You can put this one of my tab.”

\--

“So, you’re saying, you don’t play pool?”

“I fail to see what that has to do with the conversation-“

Lacey pushed back from the table with a chuckle as she shook her head at him. He was glaring back at her too, but a playful mood had seized him and he failed to be anything more than mildly discerning. 

“You were giving me hell not fifteen minutes ago for not playing golf!” 

“Completely different,” he insisted, reaching for his drink to find it empty. Glancing across the table, he noticed his companion’s drink was also empty, ice almost melted at the bottom of it. “One is played by drunks as a mating ritual and the other is a psychological business tool.”

“So, Madam Mayor doesn’t play pool?” Lacey asked wickedly. She had her drink straw in between her teeth, chewing at it absently in a way he found remarkably enticing. 

“Not to my knowledge,” he admitted, coughing a bit as a spasm seized his bad leg. A reminder he was not as young as he once was. The lady’s friend had left hours ago, stopping by the table with her conquest of the night to say goodbye. With another glance towards the bar, he realized the establishment was nearly empty, Tom wiping glasses and a drunk passed out on a nearby table.

“What?” The woman across from his asked, turning to find what he was staring at. “Oh, that’s just Keith. He lives round the corner. Tom will kick him out when he’s done cleaning up.”

“It’s nearly six in the morning,” Gold uttered in disbelief, looking down at his pocket watch as if was an alien entity. “How did-“

“Time flies,” Lacey murmured, her foot coming up to rub along his leg teasingly. “When you’re having fun…”

And God help him, he was. Gold found that even in the dark, grimy lighting of the Rabbit Hole, Lacey’s eyes were still bright even when clouded by tequila. 

“I should be going,” he decided. Yet, the declaration came out whimsically, as if he wasn’t sure of his own decision. Lacey, sharp as she was, picked up on the hesitation as only a natural predator would.

He had to admit, the young woman had surprised him. With a marvelous self-interest that bordered his own, she was quick to seize the moments, sniff out the lie in a statement and had shown herself to be rather good company.

A dangerous mix.

“Back to the little woman?” Lacey pressed, her foot, sans heel, still rubbing marvelous circles into his aching calf. 

Gold felt a heat flooding his brain, clouding his judgment much more efficiently than the scotch had done. He nudged his knee to the side, pushing her probing foot away from his upper thigh where it had migrated as he locked eyes with her across the table.

“If I invited you to come home with me,” he asked, voice pitched low so Tom did not overhear. “Wouldn’t you?”

“But you’re not,” Lacey answered brilliantly, settling back in her chair as her foot dropped away from him. “Because underneath all that darkness and dismissal, you’re a romantic at heart.”

“Careful, dearie,” he murmured and he saw the answering heat rise up in her cheeks at his tone. “I can be much darker.”

“Promise?” She whispered, leaning forward to place her elbows on the damp table. 

Just then, the door to the establishment crashed open, revealing two silhouettes against the neon from the sign outside. 

“We’re closed!” Tom called out, not bothering to look up from his glasses.

“Not to me you’re not,” came the unwelcome voice. “My companion and I will have champagne. Just leave the bottle.”

“Madam Mayor,” Tom greeted cautiously, eyes flickering briefly to the tall booth where he and Lacey were tucked away in. “I’m sorry but we are closed-“

“Two glasses, chilled. And if you open your mouth to say anything beside ‘anything else?’, I’ll have you fired. I happen to know the owner of this little establishment and I dare say, he would not be happy if he was to learn about this kind of treatment.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Gold called out without moving from his seat. Lacey’s wide-eyed look of astonished glee gave him some odd sort of encouragement. 

Standing, he turned to see the delightful sight of Zelena Mills gaping at him in stunned silence. Behind her, a rugged looking man stood off to the side, looking pointedly miserable and wholly distracted. 

“Who’s this, sweetheart?” He bit out, recognizing the trapped signs that signaled Zelena’s courting habits. 

Zelena found her voice, putting on a easy smile as she returned his cold stare. “Oh, Robin. His son and he were caught hunting on state land, nasty penalties. Would have gone on the boy’s record but I agreed to meet to talk, clear up this little misunderstanding.”

Robin had his phone in his hand, obviously miles away from here. 

“You have a son?” Gold asked, a hint of raw feeling coloring the simple question. The man met his eyes, recognizing a fellow father and nodded slowly. “He’ll be getting up soon,” Gold rationed. “You should be there when he does.”

The man glanced at Zelena who was no longer smiling. With daggers in her eyes, she growled through clenched teeth,” Yes, run along, Robin. I’ll be in touch.”

“Does this mean you’ll talk to the Sheriff?” Robin was asking, not moving any closer but eyes already on the door. 

“I said, I’ll be in touch, Robin darling,” Zelena said, her voice oddly high pitched. 

“I’ll speak to the Sheriff in the morning,” Gold offered, not taking his eyes off the Mayor. “He’s rather reasonable when he’s not being threatened by the Mayor.”

“Careful, Gold-“ Zelena said in a low voice. 

“Go home to your son,” Gold advised. With a nod of thanks, the man slipped back out into the night. Leaving Gold to deal with the growing headache that was Zelena Mills and her full-blown fits of temper. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered with an odd laugh at the end, an inhumane sound. 

“Enough Zelena,” Gold sighed, leaning heavily on his cane. “It’s almost dawn. Go home and get some rest. You look like you’ve had enough to drink for this evening.”

“I do? You smell like you’ve been bathing in scotch..” She hissed, stepping forward until she was leaning over him. “Don’t forget that I own you. One word from me and everything you have is gone-“ She snapped her fingers at him, eyes flashing. “Just like that.”

“Hey!” 

Gold’s eyes closed briefly in incredulity at the unwanted intrusion before he snapped them back open. Zelena was snarling now, eyes locked on the woman behind him. 

“And who is this?” She gnashed her teeth, hands curling into claws at her side. 

“Who’s asking?” Lacey shot back, coming up beside him with a cool click of her heels. 

Sizing up the smaller woman, Gold watched as Zelena came to the erroneous conclusion that this was someone she could dismiss. With a simpering smile that hid the malice behind it, Zelena made a noise of amusement in her throat. 

“Cute,” she said snidely. “But the grown ups are talking. Now, run along back to your street corner, you little whore, before –“

She didn’t get to say another word. Before Gold could react, he saw a small blur connect with Zelena’s chin with a cracking noise. Instantaneously, the red head’s eyes rolled back in her head and a loud yelp of pain came from beside him. Even as the taller woman crashed backwards onto the floor, Gold was turning to cradle Lacey’s hand in his larger one, taking in the rapid swelling. 

Tom appeared at his side, ice in hand. As the bartender bent down to check the Mayor, Gold looked down at the bowed head of the stranger he had met just hours ago. Even as she shook in his arms, half out of pain and half out of anger, he felt some odd swelling of affection that had nothing to do with the curse words pouring from her mouth. 

“Here,” he commanded and she handed it over to him, even as she shot daggers at the unconscious woman on the floor. “It looks broken. We should get over to the hospital before she wakes up.”

Tom nodded at this, looking up at Lacey with mixed reproach and pride. “She’s out cold, I can give you all about twenty minutes before I call Sheriff Nolan but –“

“That’s fine, Tom. Come on, we’ll take my car- it’s just out back.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Lacey was saying, even as Gold led her out towards the back door. “What she going to do? Turn me into a frog? Gold, stop. Stop! I’m fine, I’m not going to the hospital for a – OUCH. What the hell did you do that for?”

“A doctor needs to look at this-“

“To hell with the doctors,” Lacey whipped her hand away from him, cradling it to her chest. “I want to go home.”

“Lacey-“

“I’m serious, Gold,” she said, lifting her heads and fixing him with a steely glare. “I just decked the Mayor and I’m not going to the hospital to wait for Sheriff Nolan and his flying monkeys to arrest me in front of the entire town.”

Gold shook his head, wrestling with his choices before he finally nodded. “We’ll go to my shop,” he offered, waiting for her to agree. “Nolan knows better than to come calling and Zelena won’t show her face until that bruise goes away.”

For moment, the small brunette, blue eyes blazing up at him in the darkness, said nothing. Then, finally, mercifully, she gave a small nod.  
\--

“Hey Gold?”

“Yes?” He yawned; barely able to keep his eyes open as the sun peeked in through the curtains of his shop. It was nearly eight but still no sign of the Sheriff or Zelena and he was half asleep on his feet. 

Lacey on the other hand looked rejuvenated at her new surroundings. She had been going around and touching almost every object, asking him inane questions about the knick knacks collecting dust. 

Currently, she was holding a rather ridiculous velour hat in her un-bandaged hand, holding it up to the light. He frowned at it. It was an ugly thing to be sure; dark midnight blue with silvery stars lined like a constellation over it’s ragged half torn lid. 

“What is this?” She asked, eyes narrowed at it, as it was a puzzle to be solved. 

He waved a hand at her. “Just some old vintage costume accessory. Been here for years.” He settled down on the old cot to rest his leg. He knew he should offer her it first, go sleep on the lumpy couch out front but he just needed to rest his eyes for a moment-

“Gold! It’s-“

And in a spark of gold and silver, the hat began to glow and spin, growing larger and larger. Gold hobbled to Lacey’s side, snatching it from her hand and throwing it to the far side of the room. A sudden burst of pure white light caused him to shield her with his body, nerves stretched to the breaking point. 

Then, a voice came from where no one had been before. 

“Grandpa?”

As Gold straightened, holding the still slightly trembling woman in his arms, his eyes fell upon a tall blonde, hand resting on the bony shoulder of a boy whose eyes were instantly recognizable. 

“Henry,” he greeted, as tingles of memory started to pop back into place. He turned to the blonde, taking in her ashen face and thin mouth. “Emma, how good of you to return to us.”

A small tugging on his coat made him turn to find Belle staring up at him; kohl rimmed eyes and rouged lips staring up at him in some disbelief. 

“Gold?” She demanded, voice raspy from pain and alcohol. “Who are these people?”

“Ah,” he said as more pieces fell into place. He turned back to the savior with a shake of his head. “It seems we’ve been cursed again.” Emma’s eyes rolled in obvious frustration even as Henry looked up at her with excitement. 

“So, the usual? Oh hey, Grandma! Sorry,” the boy smiled sheepishly at her with a shrug of his shoulders. “I meant Belle.” The boy took in the rather racy outfit she had on, face twisting in confusion as he looked at his mother. 

As Belle opened her mouth to question what exactly he meant by Grandma, using rather colorful expletives that made even Emma’s eyes go wide, Rumpel looked down at her with a look of fondness. Even re-cursed as her bar fly persona, his wife had managed to find him only to save Storybrooke by freeing the savior and the truest believer. 

Plus, he wouldn’t forget, not as long as he lived- the sight of his Belle knocking out the Wicked Witch of the West in a bar fight.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gold and Lacey decide to spice things up by roleplaying as gender-swapped versions of each other at the Rabbit Hole one night.

No one suspected anything out of the ordinary. It was just another Tuesday night in Storybrooke, and as usual Lacey French could be found at the Rabbit Hole after dark. The usual patrons were there, looking to seek oblivion on the winter evening before another cold front moved through.

The only thing unusual that night was Lacey sat at the bar, sipping on a scotch in a tailored pant suit that did more to accentuate her cleavage than hide it. Her usual spot at the pool table abandoned, she was taciturn and silent, a far cry from her usual bravado and flirtations. The usual suspects gave her a wide berth, not trusting the odd glint in her eye.

Besides, the truly exceptional thing was Mr. Gold. The most feared and hated man in town was playing pool and doing rather well for himself. His presence was not odd, he did own the bar after all and did come for a drink occasionally but no one could ever remember in the history of the bar, him actually interacting with anyone. 

“Come on,” Keith grumbled, slapping another two twenties down on the table between them. “Rematch. Winner takes all. ”

Gold grinned, but it was not his usual predatory smirk. Instead, it was an open, engaging smile that seemed to make him look almost trustworthy. He had shed his jacket and tie, wearing only a white button up shirt that offered a tantalizing look down his chest when he leaned over to line up his shot.

Most women in the bar were seated around that table, having moved bar stools for better seats. They were whispering excitedly as they watched the two men set up for the next game. The only woman who was not engrossed in the game was Lacey.

Grinning, Gold accepted Keith's bet, approaching a group of women sitting between him and the bar. “Ladies,” Gold said, his eyes lingering on one brunette in particular. “Care to chalk my cue?”

Amid giggles and gasps, the brunette took the offered chalk from him. She reached out, tugging him closer to her until the pool cue was between her legs. Keeping eye contact, she closed her thighs around the pool stick, before applying the chalk slowly, grinding it on to the tip before blowing the excess chalk away. Her cherry red lips parted, her tongue peeking out in invitation as she handed back his cue and chalk. 

Keith, scowling, leaned down to break. His shot was fine, a few balls whizzing into pockets but most stayed on the table. Another game was on, and after Keith finished sinking two more solids, it was Gold’s turn. 

Before it had even started, it was over. With unerring precision, Gold sank every single shot, calling the eight ball in the corner left pocket before hitting it home. By the time he straightened, Keith was trembling with rage. 

“I don’t know you managed that’ he hissed, lifting a finger to Gold’s chest. “You cheated.”

“Now, now,” Gold said, laughter in his eyes. “You don’t want all these lovely ladies to think you’re a bad loser, do you?”

A few of them snickered and Keith’s jaw tightened. 

“That’s what I thought,” Gold whispered before turning to the gather crowd. “Now, who’s next?”

The rest of the evening passed in cheers and jeers as Mr. Gold out played the entire bar. Women lined up to play, each hoping Gold would show them how to play, lining up behind them as he slid the pool stick between their fingers, his breath against their neck. None of them seemed to worry that it was Mr. Gold, the man in his white shirt and his easy smile was nothing like the pawnbroker or the rent collector they knew by day, and the idea of winning over the beast was too tantalizing for them to pass up. 

All the time, Lacey French sat motionless at the bar, nursing her scotch as she watched these proceedings with no more emotion than a statue. It wasn’t until a quarter after two that she stood up, grabbed an overcoat from the back of her chair and stalked to the exit. No one saw her go, except the man at the pool table, his eyes following her out the door.

By the time she got to Main Street, she could barely feel her feet. The kitten heeled pumps, while appropriate for her business suit, did little to keep her feet warm in the quickly dropping temperature. She was limping slightly by the time she made it across the street, heading for her apartment over the library. 

If she was surprised by the man waiting by the door to her apartment, she didn’t act it. “You did well tonight,” Lacey said, reaching for her keys out of her overcoat. Gold wore a leather jacket that made him look much more dangerous than a man his age had any right. He grinned as he watched her unlock the door. “I didn’t know you could play pool.”

“Lots of things you don’t know about me,” he said, following her inside. “By the way, I believe our little deal said something about payments rendered?”

“Oh?”

The staircase was dark around them. In the meager lighting of the dim fluorescent lights, they stared at each other, Gold with a dangerous smirk on his lips and Lacey scowling at him. Finally, she shook her head, turning to head up the stairs. “Goodnight, Gold.”

His hand clamped on her wrist and she paused, one foot on the first step. “Ms. French,” he chuckled, moving until he was pressed flush against her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Remind me,” she replied, swallowing as his hand moved around to flick her coat buttons open. He laughed again. The short sound of amusement rumbled against the nape of her neck until she shivered in response. 

“I can do that,” he replied, his other hand coming around her to support his weight. He had left his cane at home tonight, using the pool cue to prop himself up during his games. His car, parked in the shadows behind the library had helped him get here before her, but now, having stood outside in the cold, they both knew he wouldn’t last long standing on his own. 

“Gold,” she started, trying to turn back to him. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea…”

She saw a flash of defiance cross his face as his fingers moved to her blouse, flicking some buttons open and letting the cold air of the stairwell wash over her. Lacey gasped, and he paused in his ministrations to run his fingers over her pebbled flesh. “What were you saying?” he asked her, nuzzling her neck as she leaned forward into his touch. 

“Nothing,” she panted as she moved her own hand to cover his on the railing. Her hand tightened over his as his free hand drifted down, unbuttoning the catch of her trousers to pull her blouse free. If anyone walked in on them, they would see man embracing a woman from behind, her jacket covering her deshabille. 

“Good,” he murmured, planting a kiss against her neck as he slowly unzipped her pants, edging them down until he could cup her easily. The incoherent noise of needy desperation she made surprised even her. 

“Gold, I don’t think-”

“Shh,” he assured her, his fingers beginning a slow exploration of her through the silken underwear, pausing over the swell of her sex before delving down to tease the growing moisture. “Trust me.”

She jerked as his thumb brushed against her clit, straight back into him. The answering hardness was evident despite the layers of clothes between them. Her fingers curled around his on the railing, as began to rub small clockwise circles against her clit, humming into her neck as she swallowed needy cries. 

As suddenly as it started, it stopped. He backed away from her, leaving her colder than she had been walking home against the wind. She turned, pulling her coat closed around her to find him moving past her, settling himself on the fourth stair. 

With his belt already unbuckled, he was making quick work of his button fly jeans, his white collared button up pulled loose under his leather jacket. “Come here,” he requested, motioning for her to join him. 

Wetter than she had could have thought possible after watching him play with other women all night, Lacey pushed her own trousers off, stepping neatly out of them and her kitten heels before hurrying to meet him.

He reached his hands out, wrapping them around her waist as she sank down until her hips were pressed against his, her weight balanced on her own legs instead of his. He brushed her overcoat out until it covered his legs, and then hooked her underwear to the side. “Help me,” he instructed, nudging her hips with his free hand.

Lacey was more than happy to comply. Raising up a bit, she reached into his jeans to find him hard and ready, pressed against his stomach. “No underwear?” she asked, looking up at him in astonishment. He smirked, his forefinger dipping inside her and making her moan low in her throat. “Fuck,” he moaned right back. “You’re so wet, French. So goddamn fucking wet for me.”

If she had any restraint, hearing him curse in that low, rough voice ended them. Lining him up with her, she sank down onto him, the two of them groaning in unison as her body fluttered around him. She leaned her forehead against his, biting her lip as she tried to calm her heartbeat, savoring the feeling of him hard and insistent inside her before his hands tightened around her waist, urging her to move.

“Gold,” she mumbled, fingers tightening on his shoulder, “God, you feel so good.”

He tilted his chin up to kiss her, fingers pressing into her hips as she kissed him back, heedless of her hips rising and falling on their own accord as her body sought the orgasm that was already close enough to taste.

It didn’t last long. Not when her fingers were in his hair, his lips were on her throat and the knowledge they were inches away from a public street, fully clothed and fucking in the stairwell of the public library like teenagers.

“Fuck, French,” he groaned, pulling her off him as he rolled to the side to spill his seed across the treads. Lacey pulled the coat over her, watching as he wiped his hand, covered in his own seed across his jeans, grimacing as he looked down at the mess. “Well, I’ll have to borrow a towel.”

“Leave it,” she told him, grabbing his hand and placing it back at her sex. He grinned, but didn’t move. 

“I thought,” he said casually, staring up at her with a devil may care grin and his cock still outside his pants. “Winner takes all.”

Lacey keened, rocking her hips so that her swollen sex glided over his hand. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t make any motion to help her either. “Screw that,” she grumbled, leaning down to kiss him again. “I need to come.”

“Lacey-”

“Please?”

He rolled upwards, tucking himself back before he gestured her to sit down between his legs, one step below him. She sat, spreading her legs until she was exposed to anyone who might open the door.

Leaning down, he let his legs fall on either side of her, her chest against his hips and her head resting against his chest as he began to rub her through her soaked underwear, pinching and rolling her clit between his fingers as his free hand cupped her through her bra, the smell of sex surrounding them.

“That good?” he asked, increasing his speed until she had her eyes closed, hips half raised off the stair and pressing against him as if to become part of him. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she moaned. “I’m going to-”

And she did, crying out as she went boneless against him as his finger slid inside her, drawing out her orgasm as it rubbed against the sensitive spot he knew she liked until she was panting in his arms.

“Good?”

“Good,” she replied breathlessly. “God, that was amazing.”

“You’re going to have to help me up the stairs,” he said after a moment. “I think I pushed my luck without the cane to get to and from the car.”

Lacey laughed, turning around to smile up at him. “So, role playing was a success then?”

He shook his head. “It’s exhausting being you,” he confessed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look any of those people in the eyes again.”

Lacey shook her head, as she stood to retrieve her shoes and pants at the foot of the stairs. “No one will believe them,” she told him. “Besides, most of them were too drunk to remember much else except they lost money playing pool.”

“I suppose,” he sighed, using the railing to help pull himself up. Lacey joined him, loping an arm through his as they looked up the two flights of stairs ahead of them. “Perhaps...my place tonight?”

Lacey laughed, but sat down to pull her trousers and shoes back on. “You never did tell me you could play pool,” she complained. “I wouldn’t have made that bet if I had known that little detail.”

“Plenty of time to find out all my dirty little secrets,” he replied as she stood back up. She grinned at him, taking his arm as they headed back to where his car was parked. 

As they disappeared outside, the Storybrooke winter meeting them at the door, they were both too engrossed in ribbing each other about the other’s quirks to realize that someone had mentioned the future, and yet neither of them had gone running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This specific prompt was the last of my 200 followers on Tumblr. I hope you enjoyed this little revisit to this verse because I always do.


End file.
